Krissy's Monster Part 1
by Happygoddess2003
Summary: Krissy Chambers is on her own, ignoring Sam and Dean's orders to check in regularly and not to hunt alone. This is her story of where those choices take her. This will become a SisFic! Language/Non-Graphic Rape Images. Please do not read if this is a trigger for you!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

A/N: My take on the whole Krissy Chambers thing. Set after Season 7 Freaks and Geeks, but I've adjusted her age to 16 – it just worked better for me. Some things are the same, some are different … and I really hope you like!

She closed the bathroom door and slowly began to peel her sticky jeans down and off. She tossed them into one of the garbage bags she kept stashed in a neatly stacked pile under the sink. She thought her shirt could be saved. Probably. It went into the sink with some bleach to soak. She grabbed a bar of Ivory soap from the case she kept next to the garbage bags. She would not use that bar again. One of her rules. The "After A Kill" shower soap always got tossed. She had killed a monster for sure tonight. At least, she was fairly sure he was dead. She checked her line of weapons next to the sliding shower door. Knife – check. Her favorite gun, filled with both silver and regular bullets. She always emptied her gun into whatever she shot, just to be sure she covered all supernatural bases. Krissy had rules. She was smart like that.

She limped into the shower and let the hot water spill through her hair and down her cut and bruised body. Her collar bone jutted down at an awkward angle. She drew in a sharp breath as she reached up to wash the caked blood out of her hair. She was seriously wrecked. The water swirled dark pink in pools around her ankles and she had to lean against the stall to keep herself upright. This would not be easy, because: No. Hospitals. Ever. Her #1 Rule. Too risky.

Half an hour later she dragged herself out of the bathroom with her used-to-be-wearable clothes. She couldn't save her shirt. When you were 16 years old and completely on your own you had to be careful. You couldn't just go walking around in torn, blood-stained clothing – that would make you memorable, and memorable was the last thing Krissy Chambers wanted to be. She gingerly made her way down the hall, leaning and stopping, making her way to the kitchen. She was dying of thirst and all she wanted was some water. Instead, she heard the light switch flip and a strong voice behind her say "You didn't call." Shit. Sam.

Krissy turned carefully to face him, almost dropping the towel she had wrapped around her body in the process. "Sam, what the fuu…" she began. "Hey, hey, hey," he exclaimed, "What the HELL happened to you?" She stared at him. Dark spots began to swim in front of her eyes, blocking him out and making him seem very far away. "Everything" she said softly, before it all spun and turned black. She felt herself being caught before hitting the floor.

Voices. Far away … she must be dreaming, because there was nobody left that had a voice for her to hear. They were all gone and those days were long gone. She didn't like thinking about that, so she focused on the voices. It was nice to dream of not being alone. She half smiled as the voices continued in the dark void.

"…issy, open your eyes… Try… Come on, it's Sam… Gus, wake up," he said louder, using the nickname he had given her... she was not a fan… "Move Sammy", she heard a second voice interrupt and immediately felt a sharp pain tear down her shoulder. Her eyes flew open. Dean. She saw the triumphant look across his face as he said to his brother "I told you I could wake her up."

She was disoriented. Why were they here? She hadn't called them. How did they FIND her? She needed to get up, and oh God, she needed to get DRESSED. And get them the hell away from her. She tried to sit up but her head began to swim. She felt a cold cloth on her forehead as she was firmly pushed back down against the pillow. "You stay put" Sam ordered. "And knock off that one-eyed glare you're giving me. Seriously, kid? You didn't call. Again. She watched as he brought a cold glass to her lips. "Here, take a sip of water. Just a sip," he said. She felt the cold liquid hit her throat and had to keep drinking. " Slow, slow" he cautioned. "You have a head injury and a shitload of other things. Go easy. . . You can have more if you keep that down." She felt the cold goodness of that water taken away. Krissy felt a wave of anger and embarrassment despite her injuries. She wanted her water back! She wasn't used to being treated like a child, and she hadn't been spoken to like that in, well, what felt like forever. No, it had been forever. " More" she croaked out. "No can do,", Sam said, as she heard the glass being set down far out of her reach. He could be such an asshole.

"Clothes. Top drawer… please" she added, hoping to sound like she was asking and not demanding. Sam got up and opened the small dresser drawer. Lined in a neat row were four sets of comfortable clothing complete with matching socks. He left behind her bra and scooped up the everything else. He took them over to the bed and set them beside her. "I'll help you," he stated. She looked at him like he had three heads. "The hell you will," she thought. Instead, she said "Dude, I think you forgot something I need." Pain pulled at her from every part of her body. God everything hurt. Dean appeared beside Sam (they were like that, tag teaming their way through her life) and said "Sweetheart, Sammy here hasn't forgotten anything. You have a broken collar bone and a dislocated shoulder, just for starters. So forget the bra. You got nothin' we haven't seen before." She glared at him and reached out to snatch her clothes. A world of pain hit her and she bit it back. It was so much worse now. "You guys haven't seen MY junk before so get the hell out and let me get dressed. I don't want you here," she spit out in pain and frustration. "Okay," Sam said, looking her up and down with an odd combination of concern, anger, and … sadness? "But I'm leaving the door open and if I hear you face plant I'm not waiting for an invitation." Krissy struggled to shrug. "I never sent you one to begin with," she mumbled.

She sat on the edge of the bed looking for the water. Ugh. Asshole took it with him. What a control freak. She managed to slide on her underwear and shorts together. She couldn't reach above her head to slide on her tee, so she bent at the waist and pushed her head and good arm in, struggling to pull the other side down. Blood began to drip onto her thigh from somewhere. She gave up trying to fit her right arm into the sleeve and pulled the whole thing straight down over her right side. She sucked air in deeply as the cloth pressed tightly against her injured side. Tears filled her brown eyes, but she quickly blinked them away before they could slide down her face. Sam cleared his throat outside the door. "Okay, ready or not I'm coming in," he announced. He entered the room and found Krissy half-standing in front of the full length mirror with her good hand braced against the wall for leverage. She looked bad, Sam thought, and she looked broken. Krissy caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror. "Hey, can you get that towel off the floor?" she asked mirror-Sam, as if it were the most important thing in the world right now. As if she hadn't just narrowly escaped the Grim Reaper. F'n Reapers, he thought. She didn't seem to even care. Sam grabbed the towel and tossed it into the hamper. He had seen enough. He looked directly at her and gave her "the look". "I've got your shoes, he said. "You're going to the hospital."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Krissy stood frozen at the mirror, assessing the damage. Hospital? Never. Do-gooders asking too many questions, find re-healed bones, scars, wanting "more information"… Nope. Her rule is No. Hospitals. Ever.

She had a screaming headache from the still-bleeding gash on the left side of her head. Cuts and bruises covered her body, blooming before her eyes like black roses on her porcelain skin. Her lip was split – THAT would leave a mark. Her ankle was throbbing, sending shooting pain up to her eyeballs. But all of this was nothing compared to the damage done to her shoulder and collar bone. There was other pain as well, but it was like her mind wouldn't quite… reach there. Her arm hung limply and her reflection looked crooked.

"Krissy let's go," Sam called to her from the living room. "Dean's in the car and you need to move." She steeled her brown eyes and lurched out to her sparsely furnished living room. "I'm not going anywhere, Sam. This is my place and my rules are never any hospitals – you know that. I'll be fine. I can take care of myself." Sam stared at her with a surprised look, eyes narrowing as he slowly said. "Yeah, Gus, I can see what an outstanding job you're doing at that. Don't make this hard. You aren't thinking straight. You're hurt and scared and I get it…" Krissy interrupted him sharply. "Scared? I don't remember even asking you to be here. I don't need you or your dork of a brother to come snooping around me… you interfering"… she searched for the right word … "Winchester!" Her voiced has escalated to a high pitched squeal. Sam tried to hide a quick smile as he realized calling him a Winchester had been her way of criticizing him.

Dean's broad shoulders filled the doorway. "Let's go champ." He ordered. Same gave Dean the "We got trouble" look. Krissy met Deans green-eyed stare straight on. He couldn't help but think of the balls it took to do that. Shit, he knew plenty of grown men that couldn't meet his gaze. There she was, five feet nothing, blasting away at him. "No hospital," was all she said. Sam was at her side in one stride. As he held her arm to support her, he looked down into her one good eye and tried the soft approach. "You have to, Krissy. Trust us, we'll make up a story. You're really hurt and you're most likely bleeding internally. You have broken bones. You need stitches." As if this settled it, he carefully placed his arm around her waist and muttered "Let's go, kiddo". Krissy turned away from him, almost falling before Dean jumped forward to catch her. "Dean," she said, using her most well-practiced vulnerable girl voice, "Just call Cas, ok? You can do that. He'll fly in, zap me, and I'll be good as new. You told me he's done it for you and Sam lots of times." Dean sighed, frustrated. He threw a look to Sammy in their creepy unspoken language. Sam nodded, looking grim. Gone was his soft eye approach now. "No can do, chickie," Dean replied. "Cas is recharging off grid. No pop in's, no healings, no fly-by's, only Netflix until he's back at one hundred." He and Sam both reached for her at the same time. She would be going to the hospital with her "brothers" one way or the other. "I told you not to make this hard," Sam whispered to her. She didn't stand a chance. Her "brothers" lifted her up easily, supporting her rear end as if in a floating chair and headed toward the front door. They felt her whole body tense under their hold. "Ok, ok, hold on," she said. "Wait," she pleaded. Very unlike Krissy to plead. They stopped and looked down at her, not unkindly. "Listen to me, guys. There will be too many people! Questions, forms, more questions. They could make me do things, make things happen to me… I'm not eighteen," she finished, beginning to unravel. "I'll do whatever you want just don't make me do this. Please," she added. A tear fell from her open eye that she tried to shake away, frustrated. Sam reached over and wiped it off her face. He turned her face to meet his. "Okay, Gus, here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna plant your ass over on that couch while Dean and I figure this out. I'll grab you some water and you'll sit there until we come back in to tell you how this plays." Krissy was silent. She was not used to this new Sam. He was always the nice one. Sam was the one who came for her when her dad first went missing, even though he was batshit crazy with grief over losing Bobby. Sam came when she lost the others. Most of all she could always count on getting her own way with him. Or did. Before this new improved Sam 2.0 arrived. She didn't think she was gonna like this guy. He was so much less – pliable was the word. Still, he didn't seem angry, only firm in what he said. She let them guide her to the couch and bring her a drink. "Do not move from this spot," Dean stated. "But what if I have to…" she began. "Stay there and figure it out," he said pointedly. "Every time you move you're doing more damage to yourself." Sam came over with a towel torn into strips. "Hold this here," he said, placing her hand over it on her gashed head. "Press down. We'll be right back," he promised. "Hey! This was a brand new towel Sam," she yelled at his tall form disappearing through the door behind his brother. "I paid good mony for this towel!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.

A/N: Hope you like!

Dean leaned against Baby and ran a hand through his hair. Krissy was a good kid, but she was reckless. Dangerously reckless, and stubborn as a mule. He grudgingly respected the stubbornness, but this was the third time she hadn't checked in when she promised, AND she had ditched her phone again. Against everything that he and Sam had drilled into her head, she continued to hunt alone. Apparently their lectures missed the mark, and that was rare for them. Practically unheard of. His concern quickly turned to real fear today that this girl had a death wish. He understood. It's hard to watch the people you love die before your eyes. Over and over and over again. It's hard to move on. It's hard to want to move on. But not her. No. Not today, not ever. He and Sam had long ago agreed that she would not be lost to that empty. But she was different this time – afraid. Afraid of them for some reason, too, he could see it on her face. He glanced up as Sam strode across the parking lot. He looked about ten times worse than Dean felt. "Beer me," Sammy said with a grim look. Dean grabbed two from the cooler and waited. He knew his brother was "the quiet one", but he also knew he took his responsibilities seriously. Krissy had crossed the line with him about five hunts ago.

Sam took a breath. "Okay, we have two options. We drag her kicking and screaming to the hospital," he said slowly, eyeing Dean carefully to gauge his response, "or we patch her up ourselves." Dean's eyes widened as Sam continued. "I know, I know. I'm not saying I like it, but I think there's something more going on here, Dean. Something's off. She's not acting like here normal smart-ass self – you feel it too, don't you?" Dean gave his head a quick nod in agreement. Sam was right. Neither of them were ready to take her to strangers yet. Sammy continued, "She needs us, Dean, even if she isn't willing to say she does. She's an out of control, flighty, angry, emotion-driven know-it all…she's YOU, Dean! What the hell, man," he said. Dean half-smiled. She kinda was like him in those ways. But the OCD cleanliness, the perfect drawers, wanting to shut herself away before she lost someone else – that was all Sam. And she was smart like him, too.

Dean polished off his beer and turned to his brother. "Okay, let's say we patch her up. Are you saying we re-set her shoulder the way, you know, you and I do to each other?" Sam nodded, "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying. We've done it for each other hundreds of times. We'll just need to be more careful with her. Let's get this over and done with and then go from there," he answered. Dean tried to keep control of his voice. "Go from there to WHERE exactly? he asked, exasperated. His brother shook his head. "I'm not sure, man. All I know is we can't let her continue on like this. I won't. We tried to give her some space after she lost the others, but clearly this is not working. She's still a kid who's seen too much. Way too much. And she thinks that makes her an adult. Well, it doesn't. I'll grab the bag, and we can make a sling inside. Oh, grab the whiskey," he added as a final thought. Dean grabbed the gear and headed back into the apartment, thinking how much it sucked to know you were gonna make Tinker Bell cry.

"Where's my shit?" Krissy screeched at them as they walked through the doorway. She was seething. "I know you guys took it… STOLE all of it! I want my weapons back now. I'm fond of my protection," she said as she threw daggers at them with her one good eye. "Oh, just cut the drama," Sam said calmly. "We just want to keep them FOR you for awhile. You'll get them back, I promise," he said steadily. He sat down on the couch on one side of her while Dean sat on the other. "Well, kid, you get your wish. No hospital," Dean informed her. A wave of relief washed over Krissy. She tore the blood-soaked makeshift bandage from her head and tried standing between them. "Good. Great! Okay, so go get my stuff and be on your way," she stated. Sam reached up and hooked a finger through the belt loop of her shorts and gently pulled her back – she quickly plopped back onto the couch. "Ow," she growled, sending him an ugly face. "That's technically child abuse, Sam," she said sarcastically. Dean scoffed. "Oh honey, if you think THAT was abusive, you aren't gonna like what's comin' next. You may want to re-think your number one rule. Just remember, this was your bright idea." Krissy noticed the bag next to Sam's foot. "What's in the bag?, she asked Sam. He took a breath and placed his huge hand on her knee. "It's the hospital. And it came to you."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the awesome characters…

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave a note or suggestion! I take each one to heart and will work on making my chapters longer

Sam took a deep breath and got to it. He could do a patch-up in his sleep, but every part of him dreaded this particular job. Stitching, re-setting, and checking over Dean or Bobby was one thing, hell, he'd even stitched and re-set himself when he needed to. But this small sixteen year old was a whole different world. Galaxy. From the first day she had opened the door with that fiery look in her eyes and her phone on speed dial, she had him. He felt he could see inside her defenses and beyond, amazed that this little bit of a thing would point her finger directly at him. Of course, he had to show her that he understood her rules and that she was in control of her surroundings. She was asking for respect, so he gave her some. How he managed to hold back the laugh that threatened to burst out of his mouth was beyond him. He could see it was important for her to show him she was in control of her surroundings, and he was not going to let her think any less. He saw directly into her vulnerability and he knew, even then, that their paths would be entwined and he would be in many ways the one that guarded her when she needed guarding. In the beginning he let Dean do his "Dean thing" – the jokes, the fist-bumps, all that because that was who his brother was. He was cool with it. Eventually, though, over time, she withdrew from him. Or maybe things just got crazy. God knows Dean had his hands full with, well… everything. So Sam began keeping tabs on her, silently so she wouldn't feel her precious freedom being infringed upon. The brothers had been the first on-site when she lost her tightly knit group – ambushed from above and flanked from behind by a nest of vamps lying in wait for them. The others didn't stand a chance. Even for him and Dean, it was a rough sight to take in. The heartbreaking scene that they beheld was gut-wrenching. It was clearly a meticulously planned revenge attack. Half crazy out of their minds they searched for Krissy, finally finding her squeezed into a shallow hole she had dug by hand beneath an old shed, knife in one hand, syringe of dead man's blood in the other. Her face was a blank canvas as they extracted her from her self-made saving grace. They tried to keep her from her massacred friends remains, but she fought and kicked until she broke free to see what they has tried so hard to shield her from. Even then her face remained blank, not a tear or a sob or anything that remotely showed the two hunters that she was devastated, although they knew she was. She had quietly gone to what was left of each of them, her mouth moving with secret messages meant only to stay between herself and each friend. Sam and Dean stood aside and allowed her this goodbye, waiting for the inevitable break down that never came from her. She stood up and joined them as they began the long walk to the Impala in silence.

Sam shook his head and the images were gone. He had a job to do right now. Right in front of him. Krissy was sitting in the kitchen on a chair pulled out from the table, allowing Sam and Dean to move freely around her as needed. The overhead light was on, as well as a lamp from the living room for additional light, and Dean held a flashlight at the ready. Sam knelt in front of Krissy so he could look into her one good eye as he spoke to her. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Okay, Gus, pay attention. I'm gonna get this over with as fast as I can, ok?" She nodded, her swollen brown eye moving up and down as her head bobbed. "Just do it," she said flatly.

Dean stood next to his brother , shining the flashlight onto the jagged gash. It cut diagonally across the crown of her head as is something much taller than her hit her directly from above. He was surprised that she sat perfectly still, eye(s) straight ahead with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, resting on her lap. Sam moved quickly, but she had so much hair! Dean reached for the scissors behind Krissy's back and Sam shook him off. No. Not if he didn't have to. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," he said as he began to clean the wound with alcohol. Her only reaction was a brief tensing of her shoulders. Dean was impressed with her again. "You're gonna be fine," he directed at her. "Sam's good, and you know you're his number one girl. " Sam gave him a warning look. "Shut up, Dean," was all she said in reply.

Sam methodically threaded the needle and quickly pierced her scalp, being careful to curve deep enough to perfectly close the gash. A low moan escaped Krissy's lips as the needle dug and the thread dragged through her head. Her hand shot out to her side and Dean was already there to take it. "shh, shh, shh, almost done Krissy, you're almost there, hon," he said evenly. Silent tears slid down her face as he finished the final suture. "Twelve," Sam announced in a low voice. She let go of Dean's hand. She heard the sound of running water as Sam washed his hands and came around to kneel again in front of her and began to wipe her face with a warm washcloth. It felt fabulous and she let him. He placed his hand on her cheek. "Sorry I hurt you, but it's over now and you did great. Sometimes Bobby would have to hold Dean down when I stitched him up," making an attempt at humor. She continued to stare straight ahead, just wanting this to be over. Sam explained what was next. "I'm gonna check you over now, ok? I'll start at your feet."

Sam began to rattle of a list to Dean: "Possible broken ankle, it's hard to tell. Cuts, bruising up and down her leg"… he stopped as he reached the inside of her thigh. Looking up at Dean he mouthed the words "bite mark, human" as his eyes scanned the both sides. "Bruising to the inside of both thighs" he said aloud. Dean was now paying very close attention to every look and movement Sammy was making. He knew his brother, and he knew Sam was now looking for more than just injuries. He was looking for evidence. He rested his hands very carefully toward her pelvis and hips. "Don't," she whispered. He lifted the band of her shorts ("just a quick peek, Gus") – Sam shot Dean a dark look and mouthed "another bite." Dean felt his hands begin to shake out of anger and his eyes burned with fury. "Hold the light steady, I can't see," Sam warned Dean. Still, Krissy stared through Sam and toward the wall opposite her. Sam quickly lifted her half-pulled-on top to assess her stomach and worked at keeping an even tone. She had a massive bruise from her belly button that moved up and appeared to continue on her back. She was full of bite marks. He held up three fingers to Dean. Blood was dried from her throat to her chest, coming from a deeper bite mark at the nape of her neck. "This could need stitched," he said to his brother, pointing. Considering she had showered already, and fresh blood was still flowing, it probably would. Sam gently moved his fingers across her face to feel for broken bones as he spoke to her. "Almost done now honey, so close…. Does this hurt?" He looked at Dean and said "Her orbit is busted." Dean looked confused. "Her what is what?" he asked. Sam said plainly, "Her eye is fucked." Dean stared down at the small framed girl who had barely moved throughout the whole examination. "Fuuuuck… he thought…. She had fought for her life. Alone. Anger swelled in his chest and came pouring out of his mouth. "I swear to GOD Krissy, don't you EVER…." Sam was now standing behind her with his hands resting on her back. "Dean," he interrupted sharply. "We have to do this shoulder. NOW."

Krissy was no stranger to pain, both physical and mental. She and Sam certainly had that in common. Even so, she felt a pit settle into her stomach at Sam's words. She had never had her shoulder set. Dean handed her a cup. "Drink," he ordered. "All of this?" she asked incredulously. "Yep," he clipped "You're gonna need every bit of it." Her hand began shaking as she lifted it to her mouth. Sam's one hand fit easily over both of hers to help keep it steady. He calmly said to her, "Drink all of this straight down. You're shaking because you're going into shock, Gus, so we gotta move." He helped her tip it back as it began to move down her throat. "Good girl," he murmured, as she finished gulping down the burning whiskey. "All gone," he said, as if he were speaking to a very young child. The last thing she heard Sam say to her was "I promise to be as quick as I can."

Krissy felt numb and she liked it. The burning sensation in her belly sent warm waves throughout her body and it was a welcome relief. She felt her mind drifting away from this never-ending nightmare. Sam lifted off her top and tried not to gape at the additional bite marks on her back. He would have to deal with that after. Right now he had her shoulder literally in his hands. He and Dean had seen plenty of breaks before, but this one, well…. It was like something wanted to break her in two. Dean moved in and wrapped a small blanket under her armpits and around her breasts, making her the saddest looking prom date in a strapless of all time. Sam broke the silence. "I'll reset this from behind, more control this way," he said slowly. Long patches of sweat ran down the front and back of his t-shirt and shook in beads from his hair. "I need you to hold her legs down," he directed his brother. Dean knelt in front of her and effectively immobilized her. Her whole body was shaking now. "Hurry, Sammy," he urged. Sam knelt behind her and whispered in her ear. "You're gonna be okay honey I got you." He wrapped his long arms under her armpits and pulled her shoulders back evenly and without using too much of his strength. His heart broke as he heard a small whimper escape her. He heard the pop into place and breathed a sigh of relief. With the shoulders in place it would be easier to immobilize her collar bone so it would heal correctly. "Dean, switch," he ordered.

Dean would never forget the look on Krissy's face just before the pop. Her mouth opened as if to scream, and he braced himself. No shame in screaming. But… not a sound came out of her mouth. She sat there, held down, with a frozen scream and her mouth wide open. Dean recognized this particular scream from the time he had spent in hell. He held his green eyes downward and sighed. Finally he heard a small whimper.

"… switch," he heard Sammy say. They quickly exchanged places. Krissy's head hung limp to her chest. Sam lifted her chin and he stared into her chocolate brown glazed eye. "Krissy – ya with me?" He snapped his fingers. Nothing. He took the fresh washcloth Dean handed him and slowly wiped the sweat and blood and the tear-tracks that ran down her face. "Come on, come on… it's okay Krissy," he murmured to her. He said every comforting word he could think of, running them all together all the while wiping the dirt and blood and tears away. "You're safe…it's okay…shhh." Finally he saw a flicker of recognition. "I'm all done, honey. You are so brave," he said smiling at her as his own tears fell from his eyes. "It's bedtime for you, miss. Dean and I will sling your arm so your collarbone will set." He scooped her up carefully and began to carry her to bed. Her mouth moved as she looked at Sam. "What's that?" he said turning his ear closer to her lips. She softly spoke two thoughts: "It hurts so bad, Sam," and "Don't leave me." Sam tilted his forehead to hers and replied. "Not a chance."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the awesome Supernatural characters.

A/N: This seems like a super long chapter to me! I was going to break it down but then thought what the heck. Let me know what ya think and thank you

Dean walked into Krissy's room and found Sam leaning forward in his chair, head in hands. This was totally new ground with her for the both of them; he understood how Sammy felt. Well, at least he thought he did until Sam turned around and met his eyes. Sam held his finger up to his lips and pointed back to the door Dean had just walked through. He didn't want Dean's "Batman voice" waking her up. He needed to talk to his brother.

They worked cleaning up the aftermath from the hours before. They found Krissy's neatly stacked heavy duty trash bags and began piling one full of her now ruined white towels, her blankets, and the matching outfit Sam had pulled out of her dresser. Sam tossed in the empty whiskey bottle and tied it up, feeling sick to his stomach. He began to replay in his mind what he had just seen while helping Krissy in the bedroom.

She hadn't been able to fall asleep once he had carried her to her bed. It was difficult for her to move around much because of her injuries and frankly, she was drunk as shit. Finally unable to keep it in, she whispered to him that she had to go to the bathroom. Sam gave her a small smile as he scooped her up as carefully as he could, her cheek resting on his chest until he placed her onto the toilet, carefully sliding her shorts down and turning his back. She was in no condition to be left alone, nor did she ask him to leave. He listened intently, using his powers of observation. "Oh, fuck me it burns!" she moaned. She was so out of it, groggy from the pain and the whiskey. He planned on giving her something for the pain and to help her sleep so he could sling her arm properly, once he got her situated back in the bed again. "All done?" Sam asked, working to sound casual. He turned to find she had fallen asleep right there, on the spot. Grinning at the sight of her, he raised her up and maneuvered her shorts and underwear up in one fluid motion. The grin fell from his face as he peered at the bright red she had left behind in the toilet. He felt his stomach twist into a knot and his heart sank. "Oh fuck, Gus, no," he whispered to himself, kissing her on her temple as he sat her in her bed. "Krissy, ya gotta take these and then you can sleep," he said lightly placing his hand behind her head. She opened her mouth without even opening her eye and swallowed the pills Sam had given her. "You rest now, honey. Dean and I will be right here with you," he said reassuring her. Or maybe he was reassuring himself he thought wryly. She was out like a light for now and he efficiently tied the sling around her arm and shoulder, thankful she wouldn't remember any of it. Thank God for small favors.

Dean broke into Sam's thoughts. "I SAID, are ya gonna stand there holding that bag and stare into space all night?" Sam pulled his eyebrows together and apologized. "Sorry…. No…..Let's go outside to talk," he said. That was Winchester code for "let's go lean on Baby and drink. And talk." Dean, as always, was totally down. It was beer o'clock.

Sam recounted to Dean what had happened in the bathroom. He was finishing his third beer in three long gulps, actually ahead of Dean for a change. He reached for two more and they began to talk. Dean's eyes glowed a furious deep green as he took it all in. Sam was a combination of rage and sorrow. "This is my fault. I should have shut her shit down WAY before now. Before… THIS," he spat out angrily. "If I had kept myself on track with her, whatever happened…". "Oh please, Sam, just stop," Dean interrupted. "That's bullshit and you know it. Neither one of us is to blame for what some asshole ANIMAL…" Dean sputtered, eyes flashing. "Damn it, Sam!" He threw his bottle in anger. Sam held up his hand. "I know, but Dean she was my responsibility. My follow-up after she lost the others. My deal with her. What the hell was I thinking? Leaving a child – a GIRL – to live alone like this? In this glorified craphole? I should have packed her shit and dragged her back to the bunker – where she would have been safe. At least we would have been with her. She was hurt on my watch. This is on me." He placed his palm on his forehead and vowed: "I will never forgive myself for this." Dean looked over at his brother, the one so quick to take the blame. He took a breath – he felt the same way as Sam. "I guess this is on both of us then, dude. I agreed to the plan, too. We let her work us on this one… she pitched a sound game. Pretty much made us her bitches, huh, Sammy? She got by us but it's not too late moving forward, eh? "He slung his arm around Sam's shoulder. "We can't change the past but we can sure as hell prepare for the future, right?" Sam grimaced and nodded. "Damn straight" he agreed. He held out his empty hand "and I'll have another beer you selfish bastard."

Krissy was dreaming. Remembering. Oh, God, she could smell him. She struggled against the rope that kept her arms and legs bound. She struggled to breathe through the duct tape. She struggled to push the panic she felt rising back down her throat. She would kill him. She forced herself to slowly breathe through her nose. "Don't look afraid, don't give him that," she thought to herself. She expected that Sam and Dean would burst through the metal doors she was trapped behind at any moment and kick his ass just enough… then leave her to finish. She knew that wouldn't happen because she hadn't been honest with them. Lying to them for months, she had kept her secret close, in fear they would do that crazy over-reacting shit they did so well with her. But now she was sorry. She was the sorriest girl in the world for taking them for granted and thinking she could handle this on her own. She thought back to the times that Sam would stare into her eyes, searching for a telltale sign of deception. She was a great actress - Dean had said so himself so long ago at their first meeting. She knew how to put on the illusion of "nothing going on here." But there had been a lot going on. A lot. She heard movement behind her and braced herself for what was coming next. There would be no Sam and Dean pulling her out of this one. God why had she been so stupid? So full of pride. She closed her eyes and let herself slip away into her mind; her body detaching so she would not break. So she could find her way back if possible. She thought about her life and how she had never learned until this day the difference between the supernatural and a real monster.

SAM'S POV:

I sat next to her bed watching, thinking, and planning. She was asleep but not resting. There were enough drugs in her system to immobilize her for at least eight hours… but there she was twitching, jerking and thrashing. No sounds, though. God I was so beyond angry at everything, but I knew if I was gonna make this work I would have to reign it in. I had to have a level head or I would let MY emotions run me and then I would be…. Dean. And two Dean's in any situation wasn't a good thing. I mean, we balanced each other out. My anger was there, no denying it, but I would have to figure that out later. Our jobs brought us across countless numbers of hurt people continually. It wasn't like my brother and I hadn't come across women who had been brutalized against their will. We did everything that we could to help them, but it wasn't personal. It wasn't Krissy. I remember one time I surprised Jess at work and found some asshole had her pinned against the wall. The look of terror in her eyes, and then the look of relief when she saw me told me everything I needed to know. I was blind with rage, tearing him off her and beating him until her screams for me to stop KILLING him brought me back. They brought me back to her. It had taken a long time for her to find her way back from that, even with my support. She had been pinned and shoved, not raped and beaten and broken like my Gus had been. I did everything in my power to help Jess recover her power and courage. I knew I would have to walk a fine line with Krissy. She needed unconditional support. She needed boundaries. She needed to learn to let someone take care of her who also respected her fierce independence. It was clear to me she had lied a lot to the both of us and THAT shit just didn't fly. Changes had to happen in all our lives for this to work, but we would make it work. I didn't expect her to like it, or to like me and Dean for awhile, maybe for a long while. Small price. I had willingly taken her on as my responsibility and up to this point had failed miserably, and I am determined to not make that mistake again. I know I have to take her to a real hospital for the necessary tests she needs to have done. She had already taken a shower which probably removed most, if not all of the evidence, but she still needed to be taken. I felt the weight of the world for a split second. But I think for now, I'll just sit here beside her.

Hours later, Krissy's good eye began to open and Sam leaned forward…

She opened her eye and yes, Sam. He was watching her, assessing her. "Water," she whispered. He slid his arm around her lower back and propped her up to a sitting position so she could drink from the straw. It was pink. She would need to eat something soon. "How ya feelin'? he asked. She stared at him and drew in a breath. "Fine, Sam, I feel just peachy. How are you feeling?" she asked in a shaky voice full of false bravado. She saw Dean enter the room and moaned "Clown." He didn't respond to her barb, instead he slowly walked over and stood next to her bed. "How ya doin', kid?" he asked quietly. Krissy's instincts cut through the haze of her pain and sent her to full alert. Something was up with those two, even more than usual with them. They should have been pissed and bitching her out for hunting alone again, but instead they were looking at her with some weird sadness and some other emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on. She had never seen them like this before and she didn't like it. She tried to calm her mind through the fog so she could tap dance around them. She laced her fingers together on her insanely painful lap to try to keep them from shaking.

Sam reached out and took one of her hands in his. He began by letting her know she wasn't the award winning actress she thought she was. "Hands are kind of shaky there, Gus," he mentioned in his serious tone. "I want you to listen to me," he began. He saw she was deliberately avoiding his eyes and decided to use his even MORE serious tone plus raise his voice just a little. "Dude – look at me when I'm talking to you," he said louder, exasperated. She resentfully looked over to him with her one open eye. She tried to pull her hand back but it remained where it was, in his firm yet gentle hold. He began again, as if speaking to a child. "Krissy, we aren't leaving yet. And when that time comes, you're leaving with us." She attempted to interrupt but Sam waved her off. "No, it's time for you to listen. Don't talk. Lately most of you're talking is lies. I can't even fathom what you've been through. All I know is that Dean and I agree that you have to make changes, and one of those changes is you're going to be living with us from now on," he finished. She was clearly mortified at how he was speaking to her. "Don't I have a say in this?" she said slowly. "NO," Dean clipped. She tried appealing to him instead of the new Sam. "Dean, come on," she countered. "It was a rough hunt, a hard day, okay? Like you two have never had a tough hunt?" She switched back to Sam. "Sam, I'm sorry I lied to you, okay? I'm sorry I didn't check in. You have no idea how sorry I am! But it's okay, I'm okay, really…okay," she finished by forcing what she thought was a bright smile through her split lip and pulverized face, which in reality made her look freakishly broken and not smiley at all. She tried to look confident by holding Sam's stare, but she had to look away. It was proving to be too much work. He took his hand from hers and placed it lightly on her cheek, reminding himself that she needed that bite mark on her neck glued or stitched and covered. "It's not okay, Gus. It's SO not okay. YOU'RE not okay. We know what happened to you and we are so, so sorry. We are gonna help you get through this. We won't let you be alone," he finished gently. He expected her façade to crumble. The walls would come down, sobbing, but no. Not this girl. God, why was she fighting them like this? Krissy felt herself internally imploding. They were seeing through her. They knew, oh God fuck shit they knew. She gave her best blank face. "You know what exactly, Sam? You know I got my ass kicked and probably deserved it for not calling you, right? I know it," she said calmly. Dean glared at her and spoke strongly, but used restraint. "Kiddo, we aren't stupid. You're insulting our intelligence, here. Sammy has you totally figured out real good, and there's no discussing this. This is not a democracy. You have a new address, effective today," he gave her his sternest Dean look. She sucked in air that made every part of her body scream in pain, and then she spoke. "I. Am. Not. Moving. To. Bum-Fuck. Kansas. To. Live. With. You. Two. Bozos," she breathed out. Her head fell back on the pillow and she closed herself off to block them both from her sight. She heard Dean say "And the award goes to…" followed by Sam hissing "Dean, out." She waited for the boot clomps to recede from her room before peering over at him. He was threading a needle and began cleaning her neck. She painfully reached up and covered the bite mark with her hand. "No," she said softly. He peeled back her small had easily and said "Yes. It's your NECK, Gus. I'm good. There will barely be a scar." She winced as she let her hand fall to her side. "Then at least give me something for pain before you start human pin-cushioning me again. You know, for the pain in my head, my arm and shoulder, my ankle, and oh yeah, my everything." Like magic he produced two white pills of a substantial size. She opened her mouth and he quickly gave her the pink straw to drink from. He brushed her hair back from her face and looked down at her small features, now distorted from the beating. "This conversation is not over. I promise we will figure this out. I'll wait for you to knock out before touching that bite," he said reassuringly. He didn't want to hurt her any more than she already had been but if he waited much longer it could become infected and he didn't think scarves were Krissy's thing. "Fine, whatever," she said as the meds began to take effect. "I donnnn't likkkke you, Sam two point ohhhhh…" she whispered before drifting off. She knew her ability to con Sam and Dean was becoming seriously compromised. She couldn't fight off the pills nor did she want to. Some hunter she was.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the awesome Supernatural characters.

A/N: Thanks for reading… I appreciate it! A special thank you to Hailstorm3 for being my sounding board and voice of encouragement!

Dean handed Sam a beer. "Need help?" he asked. Sam was quickly emptying Krissy's dresser. He nodded to his brother. "Yeah, grab all her shit from the bathroom. Get everything," he replied in a hushed voice. "We need to have this packed in the car before she wakes up again. It'll be easier this way," he added. God, he hoped so.

Sam had killed monsters for, well, practically his whole life – yet somehow facing this girl and taking responsibility for her scared him more than anything supernatural ever had. What he knew about teenage girls could barely fill a teacup. He knew they kind of went kind of crazy once a month so you should always have chocolate and ice cream on hand. Add to that that HIS teenage girl had been living on her own, had the personality of a badger, and could wield a weapon like a gladiator was a major complication. But Sam was resolved. They would be leaving soon, moving toward the hospital and then finally the bunker. Home. He downed his bottle in three quick gulps. "Beer me," he said to his brother for what seemed to him to be the ten thousandth time in the past two days.

Krissy was eight years old and sleeping in the back seat of her father's truck. She loved that truck. The well-worn leather caressed her cheek and served as a welcome pillow to her tired eight year old body. The low sound of Toby Keith's voice and the vibration of the tires lulled her to sleep every time. But now she was waking up, tires still rolling down the highway. She was waking up, but she was a sixteen year old girl, not a small child sleeping behind her father. She was a girl who had experienced a lifetime of pain in the eight short years since falling asleep in the back of that truck. She knew she was awakening, except she still felt the strong vibration of those wheels under her. As Krissy began to rise up from her dream she had never been more confused in her life. She began to stir as her mind fought to make sense of the situation around her. "Dad? Daddy…" she questioned, her voice rising. Pillows surrounded her body and supported the back of her head. She realized her arm was held tightly to her side by a sling tied around her, and that the base of her neck felt like it had been stung over and over. Her mouth hurt and her head ached and she could only see out of one eye. Her ankle was elevated by even more pillows. She had the largest hangover of her life without the benefit of any of the fun the night before. Oh, then God, she remembered. Awake now, Krissy remembered everything. She knew where she was instantly. Those…. those…. Winchesters! She was in the back seat of the Impala, flying down the highway. She could see Dean driving, silently mouthing the words to one of his stupid throwback songs. She tried her best to lean forward. "What the hell is this?" she yelled at the brothers.

Sam heard her stirring and was prepared for her fury. He was already turned fully around in the front seat (no small feat for his six four frame). "Hey, hey – Gus, take it easy now," he said slowly, reaching out toward her. She shrunk away from his reach. "Don't touch me. Nobody better touch me," she said through gritted teeth. Sam readjusted himself in the bucket seat. He couldn't help but feel a little stung by her actions. His heart ached and his anger burned at what had been done to her. He would never hurt her. He…loved her… like a little sister… he would protect her until his last breath, and so would Dean. Somehow having her with them felt RIGHT. As if it was meant to be. He shook off the emotion of the moment and reminded himself that it wasn't about him. He focused on what he had prepared himself to say to her. He leaned forward for the second time. "We're taking you to the bunker, Gus. You live with us now," he stated quietly, as he slowly reached toward her again. He saw how she had twisted her body to pull away from him. "Really? Are you comfortable like that? Here, get yourself back on those pillows right now," he sternly told her. She gave him a look. He glanced over at his brother and sighed. "Dean, could you please stop the car so I can place Krissy back correctly on the pillows it took us half an hour to get around her?" he said reasonably, not allowing any emotion to flow through his voice. Dean nodded and began to slow Baby down. "Okay, okay assholes," she mumbled, as she tried to get herself back onto the pillows. Sam reached forward and easily picked her up and placed her in the middle of the back seat, trying to ignore the groan of pain emanating from her, even though it killed him to hear it. He looked down at her, not wanting to say what he needed to say but knowing it was necessary. "Stay where we put you next time and you won't have to deal with this needless pain, understand? You get me?" he asked. She looked up at him with hurt and anger in her eyes. "Oh I get you, Sam," she replied. "I get that you're kidnapping assholes," she snapped. Dean glanced back at her. "You better adjust your attitude dude or you'll be back to la-la land in about five minutes," he remarked over his shoulder. Sam shot him a look. "Back off" he shouted silently at his brother. This was not the time for Dean to go all "John Winchester" on her. Sam knew they had to be very careful with her. She had just been through … they didn't know exactly what, but they knew enough. Firm was important so they could establish that they were the ones in charge, but equally as important was giving her support so she would feel safe and willing to talk when the time came. Sam really didn't want to screw this up. Dean shrugged and kept driving. He was very confident Sam had a grip on this. It was nice to sit back for once and watch his brother take over. He loved Krissy just as much as Sam did, but their connection was different. Even so, he was committed to her as much as Sammy was.

Sam tried again to reason with her. "Krissy, I know you're mad at us and that's okay, but you left us with no choice. What were we supposed to do, leave you in that shithole with serious injuries and God knows what else? Is that who you think we are, Gus?" he inquired earnestly. She looked down, at a loss for a reply. Everything was so messed up in her head. She hurt. Everywhere. Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. She kept her head down. Sam took his thumb and index finger and carefully turned her chin up so their eyes met. "We can talk later about the all the lying, but I promise you Gus, from this day forward that shit is over. Do you understand?" he said without blinking. His eyes were soft, but his voice was firm. He reached out and touched her wrist carefully as she stared blankly. "Krissy," he said a bit louder, "I asked you if you understand that there will be no more lying and I expect an answer from you." His face was set strong. He would not let her get away without an answer. God she wanted to be left alone. She looked him in the eye and murmured "Yeah, sure, whatever. Can we stop somewhere - I gotta pee?" He gave her wrist a light squeeze, as if to say everything will be alright. He turned around in the seat and exchanged a look with Dean. "Yep," he said, "We're stopping the next town over." He shifted in his seat. _"But not for a potty break exactly,"_ he thought.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Supernatural stuff.

A/N: Thank you all so much for your feedback and kind comments. I know this is a smaller chapter but I really wanted to get it out to you! Promise the next ery soon. As always: Hailstorm3 – you're the best. Check her out – her stories are incredible!

Their girl had drifted off again into a fitful sleep, as if her subconscious somehow knew what was awaiting her. Sam was grateful that she was sleeping, hoping it would take the edge off of her reaction. The #1 rule that she held of "no hospitals" was about to be broken, courtesy of Sam and Dean Winchester.

Dean pulled directly in front of the Emergency room doors of Lawrence Memorial Hospital. Sam was already standing outside the open passenger door, waiting for her to awaken. "Up and at 'em kiddo," he said evenly. At the sound of Dean's voice her one good eye flew open. "Jesus, dudes are we "home" already?" She drew the word "home" out so it was dripping with sarcasm. She wanted them to know that she didn't consider any place where they were and where she also was "home". Krissy saw Sam standing at the open door beyond all the pillows they had propped her up on. He shifted aside so she could see the gigantic building behind him. Ignoring her sarcasm, he got down to it. "No, honey, almost home though. A quick stop here for you, then the bunker's about an hour out," he explained. Krissy let a small smile pass her lips, splitting the gash she had back open but not caring a bit. She tasted blood and that didn't matter either. All that mattered to her was not going into that place. She did not speak or cry – instead she pulled back her good leg and drove it as hard as she could into his knee. Pain tore through her hip and groin as she extended her foot as far as she could. She pulled back to drive it again but Sam deftly caught it in mid-air and held it tightly in his grip. He moved both of her legs easily to the side and quickly sat in the back seat with her legs on his lap, being as careful as he could with her ankle. He held them firmly to his thighs to prevent her from connecting with his face. Dean hit the door locks to keep her from getting any bright ideas. He waited for Sammy to speak, keeping his eyes on Krissy's face intently. He noticed how bright her cheeks were from anger and he also saw fear. Her jaw was set squarely and she bore a hole into Sam with her good eye. God she wanted to punch him in the face, but the sling was tied so damn tight. She imagined her ring connecting with the corner of his eye, and it gave her some peace. Sam spoke calmly and quietly, his eyes never leaving her. "Let me save you this argument, Gus. We are GOING IN to that hospital one way or another. I would prefer your cooperation, but I don't need to have it. I could just as easily have you in there right now without even bothering to talk to you about this." He reached out and took her hand in both of his. "I don't want to do that – shit, Dean and I love you and don't want to drag you out of this car," he said. "But we will if we have to," he added seriously. She looked over at Dean who returned to her an unflinching stare. When her eye turned to Sam he saw a flash of recognition on her face, as she began to process where this conversation was leading. "I fucking hate you," she breathed out at him. He still had her hand. "I don't care, I fucking love you," he said back to her. Tears slowly began to leak from her eyes, even the one swollen shut. Silent tears that broke his heart, but also propelled him forward with momentum. "See, Gus, Dean and I, we … well, we know what happened to you. What really happened so I want you to cut the act so we can help you. Being raped was not your fault. None of this was your fault. You have NOTHING to be ashamed of. We know you have to be here so we are making sure you are here, this is what I do now – I take care of you. I make sure you are safe whether you want to be or not. I'm a big boy – I can take it. You need to be thoroughly checked out and there are special … tests… that need to be performed to make sure you're okay. I will stay with you if you want." As he finished his offer she tightened her hand in his. He watched her chin drop to her chest and wet stains forming in botches down the front of her shirt. He brought his head forward and carefully tipped her chin up so they were face to face. A tear slid from his own eye as he said to her "… and I'm so sorry, Gus. Tell me you know this was not your fault, understand me?" A small sound came from her lips. He leaned even closer and turned his ear to her. "What was that?" he asked. She wasn't struggling at all, in fact she rested her head on his shoulder and into him, even though pain flowed mercilessly throughout her body to do it. Finally she spoke in a whisper strong enough for Dean to hear as well. "I said," she repeated, "I can't be strong about this, Sam, and I hate myself for it." He saw how lifeless and broken she looked. Where had his Gus gone to? He reached up and kissed her forehead lightly, keeping hold of her hand but using his other to support her head as he did so. He looked at her and spoke confidently to her. "And that's okay for now, honey. Don't worry. I can be strong enough for the both of us."

Dean smiled and opened the driver's door. What he just witnessed was a part of his brother that he never knew existed and he could not have been more proud. Sam was well on his way to becoming a big brother. Heaven help that stubborn girl, they were all on their way.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own any Supernatural stuff.

A/N: So … I've decided to make Krissy's Monster a 2-Parter. There's really so much more to explore about this story! Part 2 will focus on how Krissy adjusts to living with Sam and Dean, and what the damage will be (both short and long term) from the rape. Also… perhaps some big brother revenge might be in order? Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed! I appreciate your feedback so much –

As Sam was carrying Krissy through the Emergency Room door, she whispered to him "I have no ID connecting me to you! Turn the fuck around and get me outta here NOW you jerk. Was this your plan all along? To have Children's Services swoop in and take me off your hands?" She began to struggle to get out of his grip. He could feel her breath rise and fall rapidly as she began to shake in his arms in panic. He gave her a little squeeze. "Calm down, Gus – you need to breathe normally. You're hyperventilating so ya gotta stop. Breathe. Do it with me, come on… in and out, slow…that's better, I promise it will be okay," he whispered back, holding her as tightly as he could without fear of crushing her tiny body. He and Dean (mostly Dean) had already anticipated this situation when they found her, and Dean was all over it – Sam marveled at how easily his brother could create documentation. He was a little bit "Rainman-ish" that way. He continued to speak quietly to reassure her. "Your name is Krissy Chambers Winchester on paper – we destroyed all of your other ID's." Krissy began to kick in his arms and glare at him at the thought of her hard work so easily thrown away. They had no right. Ok, maybe they did. She was so tired. Sam steeled his brown eyes at her. "SLOW your roll, dude, we did this FOR you so wipe that look off your face right now and keep your legs still. If your ankle wasn't broken it probably is now - great job" he admonished and continued. "Chambers is a family name our parents gave you, being the youngest and a girl." He smiled at her slightly, "So you're officially illegally our baby sister now, Gus," he whispered as he tucked a strand of dark hair behind her pierced ear. Five piercings straight up to the top. He felt her shaking increase as they moved through the waiting room and closer to the registration area, and was she was becoming more agitated with each step he took. She actually seemed to turn in to his chest a bit. "Sam, I don't like it here, get me THE FUCK back to the car NOW," she hissed at him. He held her close and whispered "Hush, Gus, I've got you. I want you to calm down before you make yourself sick do you hear me?" She sighed as his arms surrounded her. "Too fucking late, Sherlock," she whispered.

As Dean filled out paperwork, Sam sat next to Krissy in the exam room. She was barely keeping it together and he knew it. He kept his had lightly on her knee for comfort and also for safety. He had no idea what she might do, and he wasn't taking any chances. He would not fail her. Sam had discreetly told the nurse that their sister had been raped and beaten during a family camping trip. He and Dean had returned from fishing to find her and patched her up the best they could before bringing her directly there. Krissy remained silent throughout his story, staring down at the floor and averting their eyes. The nurse left the room and returned with a blue gown that tied in the back and ordered Sam to leave until she called him back. Krissy began to move slowly to the edge of the table with a look of pure terror on her face as Sam caught her – he slid his arms under her behind and gently placed her back to the center, giving her a look that told her firmly to stay put. A petite female woman in a white coat entered the room and reached out her hand to Krissy. "I'm Dr. St. James, Krissy, and I'll be taking care of you today," she said kindly. She turned to Sam who had stood upon her entering, and said "And I suppose this is one of your brothers, now isn't it?" Krissy continued to look down at the floor as Sam extended his hand. "Sam Winchester, and this is my sister Krissy," he answered as they shook hands. He looked at his girl staring at the floor and leaned over to meet her eye. "Krissy, say hello to Dr. St. James," he directed. She gave him no response. He looked to the doctor apologetically, but she waved him off, no harm done. He gave her a grim smile while saying that Dean would be along soon.

Sam sat back down next to Krissy and began to speak to the doctor. "I need tell you upfront that I will not leave my sister in this room alone at any time today, after everything she's been through, it would be best for me to stay. I think you'll receive easier cooperation if I keep by her side." he added with finality. The nurse began to object, murmuring phrases like "best for the patient", and "against hospital policy", which earned her a great big old dark look from Sammy. She closed her mouth abruptly and peered at the doctor. Ignoring the nurse completely, the doctor said to Krissy "It's perfectly fine with me if you want your brothers with you," which earned HER a great big dimpled smile from Sam. He liked this doctor. "Now let's get you changed and examined." "Thanks, Doc," Sam said gratefully as he stood and placed his huge palm on the back of Krissy's head, stroking her hair as her shaking became visibly noticeable. He looked to the doctor expectantly. "Mr. Winchester, I'd like to administer three milligrams of valium to your sister to help reduce her anxiety, with your permission," she asked. "Absolutely," Sam replied, thankful for anything that would help at this point. He wished he could get about double that amount.

Fifteen minutes later Krissy sat with her blue gown tied down the back and nothing under it. She was definitely feeling the effects of that valium. Sam felt sad for her, tucking a heated blanket around her to help with the fading shakes. There weren't enough heated blankets in the world for her right now, he thought wryly. God damn he was so angry! He had no idea how he was managing to hold his shit together. Well, he did know. He was doing it for Gus, AND for himself. He knew if he started to unwind it might never stop. Sam had never felt this level of rage and managed to hold it in check – he couldn't wait to find this … human … and make him pay. Oh, and pay he would.

Gus had begun to make a scene when they tried to make Sam leave so she could change. It was ugly. She bit two nurses and clocked a third that was called in for back up. He held back a small proud grin. He had told them that he would take care of it, but they practically rolled their eyes at him. Well, they found out quickly that he meant what he said. Still, he thought, she didn't speak. She wasn't screaming at them, just fighting them off as they tried to manage removing her street clothes. So in the end, Sam stayed with her and managed to get the gown on her. He was careful to talk her all the way through it and stayed behind her as her clothing came off. He knew it was important for her to feel like she had control over this one little thing. He didn't know how he knew it, but he did.

By now her bruises were bright black and blue, covering her body, much worse than when he first examined her. He bite marks stood out as purple and red indentations on her skin, and God they were all over her. He felt his own hands shaking as he looked her over intently, fearing they would scar her porcelain skin and forever be a reminder. As if she needed physical scars to remind her. Fuck.

She refused to give any details of her attacker, claiming he wore a mask. Sam only looked at her steadily with his sad eyes now a hazel-brown hybrid of darkness. Dean stood on one side of her and Sam on the other, both whispering encouragement to her as the doctor assessed her. Their faces became grim masks of anger as the doctor began to speak. "Ok, Krissy – and guys, here's what I know so far. Your skull appears to be fractured from some type of blunt force trauma at the point of impact, possibly a baseball bat?" No response from Krissy. Sam and Dean were both holding each of her hands as the doc continued. "You have a broken collar bone that has been reset nicely but I'll sling it tighter to keep it immobilized so we can be sure it heals straight." Sam saw Dean visibly tense as she told them Gus' foot looked broken in two places. God would this list never end? The doctor looked to Krissy and spoke again. "You have orbital contusions that could leave your eye permanently damaged, but we will see over time how that one plays out." She shifted her gaze to the brothers, Sam was now stroking Krissy's hair again, he could tell she liked it and he could see that it soothed her. He didn't know then how many nights ahead he had of stroking her hair as he would try to get her back to sleep from nightmares. He looked down at her and saw her glazed eyes staring intently at the doctor. He leaned down and whispered "Gus, honey, close your eyes, it will be okay. I promise. There you go, shut them and rest," he said as he guided her eyes to close. He looked up and gave the doctor his full attention. His eyes apologized to her, but she smiled at him with understanding.

"Your sister has some internal bleeding that I need to take care of," she said as Krissy's eyes flew open. "It might be best for you to wait in the hall while I do this." To Krissy's horror, they all stepping into the hall. Two male nurses approached the group; Sam took a small step back, effectively blocking the exam room door. One of them carried a tray with various items, including one of the largest syringes he had ever seen. Dean took a sidestep that brought him beside his brother. "We aren't leaving her side," Sam stated plainly. Tell me why you think we need to be out of the room?" he asked. "Because drawing pooled blood is very painful, Mr. Winchester, and I need these nurses to restrain her while I do it," she explained. Sam looked at her as if she had three heads. "Doc," he began, "we aren't leaving her room while some strange men, even if they are nurses, hold her down. I don't mean to offend anyone. We're her brothers. We will hold her down while you do what you have to do. She won't like it (Oh God, she won't he thought to himself), but at least it will be us helping you do it. " He tilted his head to the side a bit and gave her a half-dimple. Sam was fairly sure that a solid argument, plus the half-dimple would seal the deal. She looked up into their faces and held her hand out for the nurse to give her the tray while dismissing them. "Then let's get this done," she said. "Do you mind stepping aside so I can treat my patient?" she asked. She could tell the tall one thought he could charm her with his dimples, but in fact that had nothing to do with her decision. It was that, plainly stated, he had made sense. Although, she COULD appreciate a good dimple.

The trio entered the room finding Krissy in exactly the same place they had left her. Sam and Dean exchanged their secret language look. They would have expected her by now to have forged some type of weapon out of tongue depressors and medical tape. "Krissy, I have to drain the blood out of your belly," she explained. "It can be very dangerous if I don't, but your brothers will be in here with you helping me out," she finished. Krissy stole a curious look at both Sam and Dean, wondering how in the hell those two clowns could be of any use except hunting. Her thoughts came together quickly after that thought. Hunting equals skill equals power equals size equals strength. She solved for "X". Their size and their strength was what were needed here. Against her. She let her gaze drop from them and continued to tear at the thread of her gown.

The doctor pointed at Dean. "Doug, come over here and hold the lower part of her body down. One arm across the thighs and one below, but be careful of that ankle," she directed. Sam felt the corners of his mouth twitch at hearing her call him Doug. Dean was just always so used to being unforgettable. It was probably good for his ego to take the back seat on this one. By the look on his face he didn't seemed fazed a bit. He was just focusing on what he had to do to help Gus. The doctor turned to him. "Sam, I need to you to hold her top half down. And I mean tightly guys. Once I start I'm not stopping," she stated. Dean was all action, moving into place after giving Krissy's hand a tight squeeze. Sam reached across her with an iron grip, his head turned to face her. A small whimper escaped her chapped lips and he could feel her trying to move under his chest, so he made a small adjustment to his hold to take away any wiggle room she had. He began to speak to her rapidly and softly as the doctor gave the signal that she was beginning. Gus let out a piercing scream as the needle was inserted into her belly, and began to thrash her head back and forth. Sam kept his voice strong and steady, soothing her with a tandem of words and phrases and just about anything that came into his mind. "Gus, Gus hey…shhh…shhh…. I know honey it's almost done, you're my brave girl, stop hitting your head, just breathe for me okay, Gus stop it with your head NOW, that's it you're doing so good, I'm here and Dean's here, We not leaving you alone, I promise we won't….

Krissy gasped as the needle was being withdrawn. Dean was outside his mind. Someone had beaten her so badly that blood had pooled in her stomach. Oh, he was gonna kill that sonovabitch. And slowly. As the doctor moved aside holding the blood-filed syringe, he finally had a clear view to the top of the bed where Sammy was. She was clinging to his shirt and sobbing into it whole he was stroking back her hair and whispering nonsense phrases to her until her breath began to regulate. He wiped her face with a cool cloth and shushed her to calm down. He wiped away her tears and told her how proud he was, how strong she was. Dean placed his callused hand gently on her knees, to let her know he was still there with her, but mostly because it hurt his heart to see how much they were shaking. He heard a noise beside him and looked over.

Dr. St. James slid the bottom of the examining table out, sending Dean scrambling back to the top of the bed. From the look of the tool tray that was beside the doc, he determined right then and there that women were fucking WARRIORS. He smiled down at Krissy's face, telling her "almost done." The doc spoke back to their girl. "OK, Krissy, I'm gonna do the rape kit now, do you remember me explaining it to you?" She nodded that she did and her whole body tensed. "I know this will be hard, but if you can just try to relax a little this will go faster. Let's make sure you're okay, okay?" she asked. She nodded her head Sam and Dean's way. "Why don't you hold your big brothers' hands. Just to make them feel better"? she suggested. Sam and Dean took hold of her hands and focused on her face. Tears again moved in well-worn tracks down her face silently. Sam was worried at how quiet she was. She had made a low whimper at one point during the kit, but then the doctor was standing declaring it was finished. Krissy finally rested her head back on the pillows as the boys followed the doctor out into the hall for the second time.

She began commenting and giving instructions. "Your sister is lucky to be alive. She also has an extremely high threshold of pain for a sixteen year old – an INCREDIBLY high threshold, which is absolutely baffling me. She has a mountain of recovery to climb, both physically and psychologically. I was told you are FBI, so I'm assuming you will be contacting the correct authorities to file an official report." The brothers nodded along in agreement, what else was there to do at this point?" But they knew there would be no report. There would only be revenge. "I'll send her prescriptions over to the pharmacy you requested, and be sure to keep them going until they are all gone, ya got me?" Sam nodded in affirmative while Dean just stared over at Sam. That was his thing and he was damn good at it. "Take care of those bites. Infected human bites are more dangerous than animal bites. You'll have to follow up with specialists about her eye and ankle, but for now the boot has her secure and her eye may recover fairly well on its own. Time will tell. Ice will help her, so keep it packed on as long as she can tolerate it. Expect her pee to be red but not for longer than a week. This is all in the paperwork. Most importantly, gentlemen, is to keep a close eye on her. Suicidal behavior is not uncommon. Anger. Nightmares. All the PSD's. Do you have any questions for me," she asked kindly…Sam was overwhelmed with information, but managed to reach out and clasp the doctor's hand. "Nope. Thanks so much for your help, doc," he replied gratefully. "For everything". She handed some papers to Dean saying, "this is her counseling referral, I'm sure you both know she'll need it." As if on impulse, she reached out and touched Sam on the arm. "I'm so sorry about this. So sorry this happened to your sister." And with those last words, she walked down the hall and out of the Winchesters lives forever.

Sam slipped back into the exam room, watching as Krissy lay with her eyes shut, curled as tight as she could into a protective ball. He couldn't blame her. He remembered all the times he had curled up exactly that way, protecting himself as much as he could from the outside world. He spoke her name – the name that for all intent and purpose was his "sisters" name. He allowed himself a small smile at her. She was with him. That was what mattered. His tough-as-nails older brother entered the room and began laying out her clothes so they could go home. That spoke volumes to him, and he felt a new angle to their relationship forming from that one small gesture. It meant, in "Sam and Dean" language that he was in. All in. "Gus, let's go honey you're all done," he said softly. "Let's get you dressed." She didn't say a word, which still freaked the hell outta Sam. She let them help her without a sound, and together they did it. She would need a lot of care – time to heal, time to talk, time to mourn her old self and life, and time to tell them her story when she was ready. They would be there to give her all the support she needed. They each took a side of her, arms around her waist, making the slow walk to the Impala. She sure had short legs, Sammy thought. He wanted to pick her up and carry her but he knew it was important that she walk out of the place that he had carried her into. Again, he had no idea how he knew, but he did. He cast a look over her head at his brother and they made a pact. A silent agreement. They would hunt down and kill this human monster, their little sister's monster that would haunt her waking and sleeping mind forever. If they had to tear through hell all the way to Lucifer's cage they would do it. By God, they would. Whatever the future held for them all they would face it. Face it like the family they now were.

A/N: Well, hope you liked this one! Part 2 is on its way!


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